Strongarm
by The Bloody Red Lantern
Summary: I made this one day, its what happened before and after my character entered the game


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He sat in prison waiting execution, so similar to another situation so long ago. He thought back over his life. He was a half Nord half Orc, a rare combination but a strong fighter. He had bright red hair, a dark green skin tone and fangs that were the envy of most full blooded orcs. His family, both of them, exiled him at an early age leaving him in the wilderness where he was found by a man who was simply called Captain. Captain led the boy to his ship the Saint Marie which was docked in the Imperial City harbor. The boy became the cabin boy of the Captain and the mascot of his ship. The ship was full of outcasts and so in a strange way the boy grew up loved. Plunderers, murderers, some even monsters but the boy was always safe, treated like gold by his family. He was taught how to handle a ship, how to fight everything and anything someone was willing to pass on. By his late teens he was one of the best sailors on the ship much to the Captain's pride. He was in his early twenties when it happened. The ship was a pirate ship something he made peace with years ago but apparently someone hadn't. And this someone brought imperial troopers. The man was true to his mixed heritage, he had the power and savage speed of his barbarian father along with the courage and hardiness of his orc mother. His cutlass sang through the night and to it many legionnaires fell on the moored ship that day but in the end his family was cut down, his life was stolen and he was locked in jail awaiting his death. Then his future turned and the Emperor escaped through his cell.

The man went through various adventures and eventually became the man he was now, Dragonheart champion of the Arena, Guildmaster of the Fighter's Guild, Archmage of the Mage's Guild, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, the Grey Fox of the Thieves Guild, Champion of all Cyrodiil and these were only the more famous of his accomplishments. Still for all his success the man who is responsible for his loss still lived. The man was a Argonian who had served on Dragonheart's ship for awhile went by the name Croaker before splitting off. He eventually became a legal merchant and wanted revenge on the Captain because he had attacked Croaker's ships. Dragonheart used all of his considerable contacts to find him but Croaker disappeared the night after the raid on the Saint Marie. Realizing he would never find the bastard the way he was looking Dragonheart disappeared taking his trusty ebony axe and short sword along with his silver claymore. He wore a suit of plain orcish armor and a hood his friend had enchanted for him. It was a black hood that improved his already considerable melee skills as well as helped boost his magic. He wasn't a spell sword or anything close but he was decent enough plus with some interesting trinkets he had picked up he was more than capable a handling anything. And so Dragonheart went into hibernation and a boy forced into adulthood came back, this boy's name was Atulg Strong-arm.

His claymore was sheathed on his great horse Shadowmare and his saddle bags had his old Brotherhood armor in it. He left the Imperial City which had served as his home for the months after the death of Martin and headed for Anvil. Anvil had one of the biggest ports in all of Cyrodiil and he was betting if a sea merchant was anywhere it would be in Anvil. He set a fast pace burning through the country side but his mighty steed was more than equal to the task. He reached Skingrad in a day and a half, resting for the night in a tavern. He had changed his hair cut so now he wore a simple pony tail and had died it black so no one would notice his unusual red hair. Once the next day started he was up and out flying down the roads towards Anvil. By the end of the week he was in the city smelling the salt air and letting the memories of the place wash over him. His hands even itched for a good old fashion cutlass but instead his hands traveled to his new weapons. When he had been running around in the catacombs after the Emperor he had found a rusty old axe and a decent short sword. Being the only weapons around he took them and headed after the lord. Ever since then he had always used the combination unless he was fighting with his claymore. He kept it because he learned it's always useful to have some silver weapon when fighting necromancers. He walked around taking in the sight and smells before heading over to the _Flowing Bowl _he bought a room and some food before retiring to begin his search. He waited until it was well into the night almost relishing the anticipation of the kill. He wasn't a true cold blooded monster but he was the Listener of Sithis, he enjoyed killing and this target deserved it more than any of the others _some didn't deserve it at all._ He shook the discouraging thought away; once this was done he could finally relax and live off the fruits of his labors.

He couldn't traipse around in a full suit of armor, it's too obvious, so he pulled out his Brotherhood armor, true his Dark Hand robes are more powerful but these he trusted and knew he tried to avoid the Dark Hand, the memories still fresh in his mind. He slipped out of his room and out into the waterfront, no one questioned him it was late and even the guards knew better than to try anything against someone who could very well be a Dark Brotherhood assassin. Many in the brotherhood had questioned why Atlug had been accepted since he was so large, but Atlug just smiled and made his way with the natural grace of a panther. He found several homeless and asked around for an Argonian merchant named Croaker. After losing 40 pieces of gold he found out where Croaker was. He lived in a former haunted mansion in the rich section of Anvil. He remembered the place because he was the one who had cleared out the spooks then sold it when several old enemies had tracked him back to it. Moving quietly and quickly the master assassin made his way through the city. He picked the lock to his old home not even bothering with the hidden key. Moving quietly he snuck into the building moving swiftly towards the bedroom. He slipped on his Grey Fox cowl and found the Argonian in the bed room asleep. Smiling quietly he slipped his short sword out as he crept into the room he stood over the bed but he stilled his arm. Instead he went into the lizard's closet and pulled out the two cutlasses. He threw one onto the bed.

"Pick it up." He spoke calmly he had been in too many battles to let foolish emotions cloud him. The Argonian looked confused then stared at the blade before turning to the masked figure.

"Why does the Grey Fox wish to duel a humble merchant?" Atlug prodded the lizard man with the blade, the very blade he noted that used to belong to him.

"I said pick it up Croaker and see if we can't settle that fight you started long ago on the Saint Marie." The Argonian looked confused then stared back his eyes growing impossibly wide.

"Who, who are you?" Atlug laughed and ripped off the cowl letting his Cat's eye ring shift his vision so he could see like it was day.

"Who am I? I am Champion of Cyrodiil, Guidlmaster of both the Fighter's Guild and Archmage of the Mage's Guild, I am the Grey Fox, I am Dragonheart Champion of the Arena, I am Atlug Strong-arm and I have returned for my vengeance."

"Atlug but you were…"

"I escaped, now pick it up lizard I'm giving you a chance to defend yourself more than you gave the Captain and the others, they still took a bunch of those damn legionnaires with them but they died, my ship MY HOME was burnt to the ground all because of you. Now pick it up." The Argonian looked like he would beg more before he moved snatching up the offered weapon and slashing at the warrior. Atlug just laughed and dodged the blade. He moved back in slashing to the left and right moving faster than the lizard man could keep up with, in the span of a minute Strong-arm had the Argonian on his knees bleeding form several major cuts. Atlug picked up the cutlass he had offered to the lizard.

"This is the Captain's sword, the sword he promised would be mine along with his ship when he died, you took away my family and my inheritance you will not have this." He turned away and moved towards the door when he heard a laugh.

"Foolish boy come all this way and now won't finish the job weak little half breed." Atlug spun and an axe sunk into the lizard's chest.

"I'm no where near done with you yet." He spent the rest of the night torturing the lizard bringing him back form the brink countless times. It was sun rise when he finally let the Argonian pass away. He was covered in blood and sated. Then he heard pounding on the door, the guards! He couldn't get away and this armor was not meant to stand up to battle ready guards. Still he couldn't escape so he decided to go the way that would honor his bloodline. He slipped down stairs and sheathed his two cutlasses, pulling out his famous axe and short sword. With weapons in hand he burst out of the room taking down one guard in the blink of an eye while his axe buried itself in the chest of another. He retrieved his weapon and ran for the docks. By now he had guards chasing him and he was forced to cast an invisibility spell to hide. Once he was hidden he climbed into his room changing into his real armor before descending the stairs. He released the spell and surged forward like a tank. He ran through town making out to the stable before the guards noticed he grabbed Shadowmare and ran flying towards wherever.

He was picked up on the road by several patrolling legion members, he could have killed them but he was tired and wanted to rest. And thus here he is, sitting in a stinking prison waiting for an execution and no emperor to come in and save. Still he smiled as he pulled out a lock pick and opened the door; sometimes he didn't need destiny's help.


End file.
